A Final Goodbye
by Hugsiez
Summary: Luka reflects on the day that his family was taken away from him. (All about Luka and major angst. Please R&R!!)


Luka reflects on the day that his family was taken away from him.  
  
All usual disclaimers apply  
  
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~  
  
That morning had started out so normal. Well, as normal as it could be while a war was going on. I knew that I was doing the right thing by keeping my children inside the house all the time, protecting them from the horror of a country torn apart by a war, but they were tired of being locked inside. They were so little; they didn't deserve it. Danjiela would also worry about the children being locked inside the apartment where we lived in, but they had to keep them safe. It was the only way that they wouldn't be hurt by some random bullet or something for the like. Jasna was the oldest; my firstborn. I can still remember the day that she was born and how, when she was put in my arms, Danjiela and I cried together as we saw our beautiful baby girl squirm around as she cried along with us. Even if people say that baby girls look like their father, Jasna looked like Danjiela. Her beautiful chocolate brown eyes, her adorable lips, her brown hair. . . Everything. Jasna had some qualities that we knew that were mine, but physically she looked like her mother.  
  
She was beautiful.  
  
And then came my boy. My son. Marko. He had been completely unexpected, but we welcomed him with open arms. Danjiela said that he looked just like me. Heh, poor kid. Jasna had been thrilled about having a baby brother. She was just a year and a half older than him, but she loved him dearly. Whenever he'd be sick during the night, she would do all she could to help us take care of him and sing to him so he could go to sleep. To be there for her little brother. Just looking at them, Danjiela and I knew that we had done something right in order to deserve them. We were blessed.  
  
But for a four year old and a two and a half year old, it was hard to keep them inside all the time. They needed air, places to play at, open space in order to run. Not a small apartment where they were locked up like prisoners. I remember the way that Jasna would look out the window, longing to be out there playing in the park or chasing a butterfly. Often, Danjiela and I would find her sitting by the window, holding Marko and telling him about sailing with her Papa and Grandpapa. How the air would blow against her face, making her feel like they were flying. It broke my heart, but there was nothing else that we could do. We just wanted to keep them safe.  
  
That morning Jasna had run up to me and asked me to pick her up. "Papa, can we go out today? Please, Papa?"  
  
I smiled at her and kissed her forehead gently, wanting to shield her from the world. "Jasna, sweetheart, we have to stay here. You know that."  
  
"But Papa. . . Please. . .?"  
  
"How about I bring you a treat tonight, instead of going out?"  
  
The way that Jasna's eyes lit up at that was something that made me feel as if her eyes and her smile could illuminate the whole world. As if the light of the sun that was outside was coming from her. "Ice cream?"  
  
Again, I smiled at her and nodded before putting my finger against her lips gently. "But keep it a secret, ok?"  
  
Giggling, she nodded and hugged my neck. "I love you, Papa."  
  
"I love you too, Jasna." Still smiling, I kissed her forehead as I embraced my child. My daughter. After a short while, I put her down and let her go off to start her day by playing with her doll. Danjiela had started to teach her some things that she would be learning in school, but it was too early for that. As I watched her run off to her room, Marko came running in, laughing. This, of course, made me laugh as well. He had a laugh that was contagious. That, no matter how cold hearted a person was, his laugh would get them laughing. Or, at least, smiling.  
  
"Papa!"  
  
I picked him up and tickled him, something that he loved. He loved to laugh. We always said that he was a happy, care-free baby. Smiling, I played with him, chasing him around and even got Jasna to play with us as well. Needless to say, we all had fun. We had been playing when I suddenly felt someone's arms go around my waist and hugging me from behind. It was her. It was Danjiela; the person I loved more than life itself.  
  
As I turned around, I remember thinking that I couldn't be luckier. That, even if we were to spend life closed up in an apartment, I had the people that I loved there: My wife, my son, and my daughter. My family.  
  
Danjiela looked beautiful that morning. Her brown hair was let down; reaching down to the middle of her back, and her brown eyes looked up at me as she smiled. I loved her smile, too. And her eyes. . . I could get lost in those eyes forever. They were filled with emotion, but at the same time they were filled with mystery. I could never completely guess what she was thinking; but I loved that about her. I loved her. Softly, I kissed her as I wrapped my own arms around her waist and brought her closer to me. "I love you. . ."  
  
"I love you too, Luka." Smiling, she kissed me again and smiled at me.  
  
I kissed her for a short while, not wanting to let her go. But I had to; I had to go off and get ice cream for the children. They wanted ice cream, and I knew that that was going to be the only thing that would keep them happy for the rest of the day. I didn't say good-bye to them; I just told them that I would be back in a few minutes and that they had to stay in the apartment. I didn't even kiss them good-bye.  
  
I never knew that I wouldn't have a chance to tell them that I loved them.  
  
~~  
  
After about half an hour I returned to the apartment. There was something in my heart, something telling me that I should have gone back home. I knew something was wrong; I knew it. But I didn't go back.  
  
Not until it was too late.  
  
I was a block away from home when there were suddenly shots heard. Of course, everyone around me panicked, but I tried to remain calm. I had to; even if I didn't know where they were coming from. When the shots seemed to have subsided, I ran as fast as I could to building where we lived. But I was late. I ran the whole way up to the fourth floor where my home was. Where my family was. The door was knocked down, and all the furniture was thrown aside or destroyed. Everything was a mess. My heart had been raising way too fast-about to beat out of my chest-but when I reached the door I know that my heart stopped for a moment.  
  
"Danjiela?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Jasna?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Marko?"  
  
Silence.  
  
I started to breathe faster, starting to finally panic. But I couldn't. I prayed that they were ok, and somehow in the back of my head I made myself believe that they were fine. That they had ran out to meet me outside and that nothing had happened to them.  
  
I was wrong.  
  
The rooms were thrashed; completely destroyed. Hell, the whole apartment was destroyed. But it wasn't until about a minute I was back that I finally saw somebody laying on the floor by the window. Again, my heart skipped a few beats as I rushed there. It was Danjiela. I rolled her over on her back and saw that she had been shot twice; on the chest and on her stomach. "Oh God. . .," I heard myself whisper in horror as I gently took her in my arms. "God, no. Danjiela? Danjiela, can you hear me?" She didn't move. She looked pale and was cold, but she was still breathing. She still had a pulse. "Somebody help me! Help!!" I called out for a while. I'm not even sure for how long, but no one came. I refused to cry; she had to be ok. I grabbed a clean cloth and took her in my arms again as I tried to stop the bleeding, but she didn't stop. "Somebody help me, please. . ."  
  
"Luka?"  
  
I turned to look at her, relieved that she had talked. It had been a whisper, but she had still talked. She had to get better, right? She'd be fine.  
  
But I was wrong again.  
  
"Luka, th- The ch- children. . ." She started crying and I held her close to me, trying to protect her. Trying to take away her pain. But, again, I was too late. "They took them."  
  
My fears were confirmed by that, and I could feel myself lose the battle against the tears that were threatening to fall. They started falling, one by one, but I refused to full out cry. I knew, very deep down, that she was dying. That I would never see her again. "Shh. . . Don't talk. . ."  
  
"I tried to prot- protect them, Luka. . . I tried, I'm so sorry. . ."  
  
It was getting harder for her to breathe, and she seemed to be gasping now. And the bleeding wouldn't stop. She was slipping away. I held her closer to me, my sobs getting caught in my throat and choking me; not allowing me to talk or even breathe. After a short while I kissed her forehead gently and smiled as best as I could at her. "They're fine, Danjiela. They're fine. You protected our children. You did your best. They're fine. . . Th-" A sob finally choked me, but I cleared my throat and attempted to smile again as my tears seemed to fall faster. "They told me to tell you that they loved you. I love you. I love you so much."  
  
She raised her hand and caressed my cheek, smiling slightly as best she could, but then she closed her eyes. She closed her eyes and she never opened them again.  
  
She was gone.  
  
As I was getting up after crying as I held Danjiela, I saw someone. It was a man; a tall man. I wasn't sure, but he was probably my neighbor. Someone who had known that Marko and Jasna were my children. He was silent, though, as he walked up to me with two bundles in his arms. I had put Danjiela down already. She had seemed so peaceful; as if she was asleep. When I saw the man I had stood, but when I saw the two bundles in his arms, I stopped, and didn't run to them. I knew they were gone as well. He walked to me, though, somehow understanding and gently handed them to me as if they were newborns again. As if their lives were just beginning; not ending. Not gone, how they were now.  
  
They were so peaceful; both of them. They seemed asleep as well, just like their mother. Beautiful, just like their mother. But my beautiful angels were gone, and neither one of them were ever going to wake up. I gently kissed their foreheads and hugged them to me as I whispered that I loved them and rocked them in my arms and each one of them rested a head on one of my shoulders. I didn't want to let them go.  
  
~~  
  
I never knew if Danjiela knew that the children had really been taken away and that they were gone, but I prefer to not think about it. I like to think that she believed me; that she knew that she had been a wonderful mother and she defended her children with her own life. That her sacrifice had not been in vain and that they were alive. My two children seemed peaceful and calm, but I still miss their smiles. Their laughs, their hugs, their kisses. . . The way that they called out for their Papa whenever they had nightmares or were sick. I miss having them around, and it hurts. It still hurts that I was never able to help them; to make them better and helping them live. If anyone would have asked for my life instead of theirs, I would have gladly given it.  
  
All I ever wanted was to make them happy.  
  
I guess that's the main reason why I became an ER doctor. I like to help the patients that I can and save their lives. It makes me feel less helpless in just standing behind the lines and watching people slip away. Each person that I treat is a son or a daughter, a brother or a sister, a husband or a wife, a father or a mother. Each one of them has a different reason to live, even if some of them don't realize it yet. I know what it feels like to lose a loved one; and if I can help to prevent someone else from feeling it then I do what I can.  
  
As I stare at Danjiela's, Jasna's, and Marko's headstones, I know that they're here with me, even if it's in spirit. I can feel their presence. Each time that I feel the wind blow against my face while I sail, I know that Jasna and Marko are smiling. That she's telling her brother that that's what she always told him about. And Danjiela, watching her children with a smile on her face. Our children. I love them, even after all these years, and I doubt that I will ever stop loving them. It's been years since that morning, back in Croatia, and even if the pain still lingers there I know that I can let them be free. I'm finally able to talk about them without crying; I'm able to let them go. I put a few flowers on their tombs and say a prayer for them before starting to walk away, my hands in the pockets of my coat. I know that now I can let them go.  
  
They're finally free. 


End file.
